Chapter 181

The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls of the small inn. The others had retired to their rooms hours ago, exhausted from the long day’s ride. But Nyra couldn’t sleep. She sat by the window, staring out at the moon, her silver hair loose around her shoulders, her moonlight eyes distant and troubled.

A knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Corvin entered, his dark hair still damp from washing, his whiskey-dark eyes soft with concern. He had been quieter than usual the past few days more withdrawn, more thoughtful. Nyra had noticed, but she hadn’t pressed. She knew he would talk when he was ready.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No.” She gestured to the chair beside her. “Sit with me?”

He crossed the room and sat down, his gaze fixed on the moon outside the window. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable the silence of two people who had been through too much together to need words.

Then Corvin spoke.

“I need to tell you something.”

Nyra looked at him. “What is it?”

He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he spoke.

“I’ve been struggling. Ever since you came back—ever since Soren’s sacrifice—I’ve been trying to move on. Trying to accept that you’ll never feel the same way about me that I feel about you.” He paused. “But it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

Nyra’s heart ached. “Corvin—”

“Let me finish.” He held up his hand. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I’m not telling you this to pressure you. I’m telling you because I need you to know the truth. I love you, Nyra. I’ve loved you since the moment I figured out who you really were. And I know—I’ve always known that your heart belongs to Soren. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing things could be different.”

Nyra was silent for a long moment. Then she reached out and took his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know. But I still am.” She squeezed his hand. “You deserve someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved. Someone who looks at you the way I look at Soren. And I hate that I can’t be that person for you.”

Corvin smiled a sad, gentle smile. “You are that person for someone else. You’re that person for Soren. And that’s enough for me. Knowing that you’re happy, knowing that you’ve found the love you deserve that’s enough.”

“It shouldn’t have to be.”

“No. But it is.” He squeezed her hand back. “I’m not going anywhere, Nyra. I’m still your friend. Your mate. Your partner in all of this. Whatever happens—whatever comes next I’m here. And I always will be.”

Nyra’s eyes glistened. “Thank you, Corvin. For everything. For being you.”

“Always.”

They sat together in silence, watching the moon. And for the first time in weeks, Corvin felt a small measure of peace.

The next morning, they set out early.

The road was long and winding, cutting through forests and fields, over hills and across rivers. The sun was warm on their faces, the sky a brilliant blue. It was the kind of day that should have been beautiful the kind of day that should have brought joy.

But Nyra’s heart was heavy.

She thought about the conversation with Corvin his confession, his pain, his quiet acceptance. She thought about the way he had looked at her, the way he had held her hand, the way he had smiled through his own heartbreak. He was a good man, a better man than he gave himself credit for. And she wished more than anything that she could give him what he wanted.

But she couldn’t. Her heart belonged to Soren. It always had. It always would.

I’m sorry, Corvin, she thought. I’m sorry I can’t love you the way you deserve.

She rode on, her thoughts turning to the journey ahead. The seer’s village was still days away a long, hard ride through unfamiliar territory. But she didn’t mind. She needed the time to think. To prepare. To find the strength she would need for whatever came next.

At the palace, Freya was sitting in her chambers, staring at the wall.

She had not left her room in days not since her parents had told her about Soren. The grief was overwhelming a weight on her chest that made it hard to breathe, hard to move, hard to do anything but cry.

He’s gone, she thought. My brother is gone.

A knock at the door.

“Go away.”

“Freya? It’s us.”

She recognized the voices Lila, Mara, Tessa. Her friends. They had come to visit her every day since she had returned from the healing chamber. They had brought her flowers, books, sweets. They had tried to make her laugh. They had tried to make her smile.

But nothing worked.

“I don’t want to see anyone.”

“Too bad. We’re coming in.”

The door opened, and her friends filed into the room. They were carrying an armful of cushions, a basket of pastries, and a deck of cards. They looked at her with worried eyes.

“Freya,” Lila said softly. “We’re not going to let you sit here and cry forever.”

“I can cry as long as I want.”

“Yes, you can. But you can also let us sit with you while you cry.” Mara sat down on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to be alone.”

Freya stared at them. The tears were coming again hot and unstoppable.

“I miss him,” she whispered. “I miss my brother so much.”

“We know.” Tessa took her hand. “We miss him too.”

“He died for me. He died so I could live. And I—I don’t know how to live with that.”

“You live by being happy,” Lila said. “You live by being the person he wanted you to be. You live by carrying his memory with you always.”

Freya nodded slowly. The tears were still falling, but something inside her had shifted. She wasn’t alone. She had her friends. She had her parents. She had people who loved her.

I can do this, she thought. I can survive this.

She reached for a pastry and took a bite. Her friends cheered.

“See?” Mara grinned. “You’re already feeling better.”

“I’m not feeling better. I’m just eating.”

“That’s the first step.”

Freya laughed a small, watery laugh. It was the first time she had laughed in days. It felt strange. It felt good.

“Thank you,” she said. “For coming. For not giving up on me.”

“We’ll never give up on you,” Lila said. “You’re our friend. Our princess. Our sister.”

“We love you, Freya.”

“I love you too.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon together eating pastries, playing cards, telling stories. For a few hours, Freya forgot about her grief. She forgot about the pain. She forgot about everything except the warmth of her friends’ love.

And when they finally left, she felt a little stronger. A little more whole.

I’ll be okay, she thought. I’ll be okay.

In the corridor outside Freya’s chambers, Dain stood alone.

He had come to visit her as he did every day. He had brought flowers from the palace gardens. He had practiced what he would say how he would make her laugh, how he would distract her from her grief, how he would be there for her.

But he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

It’s not the right time, he thought. She’s grieving. She doesn’t need me confessing my feelings. She needs a friend.

He set the flowers down by her door and walked away.

I’ll tell her, he promised himself. When she’s better. When she’s happy again. I’ll tell her everything.

But for now, he would just be there. A silent presence. A steady support.

A friend.

The seer’s village appeared on the horizon at dusk on the fourth day.

It was a small place barely more than a handful of houses clustered around a stone temple. The people were quiet, watchful, their faces marked by years of isolation. But when they saw Nyra, they bowed.

“The Daughter of the Moon,” they whispered. “We have been expecting you.”

Nyra dismounted and walked toward the temple. Her friends followed, their faces a mixture of hope and fear. The seer stood at the temple door ancient, weathered, her face lined with centuries of wisdom. She wore robes of silver and white, and her eyes her eyes were like moonlight.

“Nyra Astrlyn,” the woman said. “I have been waiting for you.”

“You’re the seer,” Nyra said.

“I am.”

“You know why I’ve come.”

“I do.”

“Can you help me? Can you help me bring him back?”

The seer studied her for a long moment. Then she spoke.

“Perhaps. But there is no price. The Moon Goddess has not demanded one. Whether he returns that is not certain. It depends on you.”

Nyra’s heart pounded. “On me? What do I have to do?”

The seer gestured toward the temple. “Come inside. We have much to discuss.”

They followed her into the temple, a vast chamber of stone and moonlight. At the center stood an altar, covered in ancient runes. Candles flickered on every surface, their flames casting dancing shadows across the walls.

The seer turned to face them.

“There are three tests,” she said. “If you pass them, Soren will return. If you fail—” She paused. “If you fail, he will remain in the Moon Court forever.”

Nyra’s blood ran cold. “What are the tests?”

“I don’t know,” the seer admitted. “The Moon Goddess has not revealed them to me. They are different for everyone who attempts them. They will test your heart, your strength, your love.” She paused. “They will be difficult. They will be painful. And you will not know what they are until you face them.”

Nyra was silent for a long moment. Then she spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

Corvin stepped forward. “Nyra—”

“I’ll do it,” she repeated. “Whatever the tests are, however hard they are I’ll do it. For Soren. For us. For everything.”

The seer smiled a sad, knowing smile.

“Then we begin at dawn.”